Marta de la Reina crossed the forecourt of the hacienda with quick, determined steps towards the store. Her face was red, her forehead wrinkled. Even from a distance, you could see her jutting jaw, her straight shoulders and her tense muscles looked fierce. The landowner's daughter was obviously furious and no one in their right mind would dare speak to her now. On the contrary, most of them avoided eye contact and those who could, tried to disappear from view. Only Begoña looked up as Marta stormed past her, now looking like a Greek fury.

She couldn't remember ever having seen her sister-in-law like this. The woman she had admired for so long for always keeping her composure seemed to be accompanied by a firestorm that she had never seen in any de la Reina since she had married into the family. On the contrary, it had taken her a long time to get used to the fact that poise and discretion were the most desired attributes of the clan. No matter what the cost. For a tiny moment, she almost felt a touch of envy inside her. But at the last moment, she also recognized a tear running down Marta's cheek. She had no idea what had made Marta so angry and obviously hurt at the same time, but she was already sure that Damian or one of the other men had played a big part in it.

There was no point in asking now, so she turned to Isidro and nodded to him to indicate that it was time to leave. He had also been looking after Doña Marta with a worried and thoughtful expression, but now closed the door of the car after giving himself a jerk. The car sped off as Marta stepped through the open door of the store.


"Hija, this behavior has to stop now, I won't tolerate it any longer. I've tried to be patient with you, I really have, by God. But you are a de la Reina, Marta. And I expect you to behave like one."

Marta could still hear her father's voice, speaking to her in a sharp yet still calm voice. It had always been like this. He rarely got loud, was basically never quick-tempered, but his voice could take on a coldness that made everyone in the room shiver. No one ever contradicted him, because even in a calm voice he could make threats that brought everyone to their knees.

"But since you don't seem to be able to do that at the moment, I've spoken to Jaime and we've agreed that it would be good if you were on your own for a while. Without commitments. Without distractions." He emphasized the last words with pinched lips. "What do you mean?" Marta asked. "You and your husband are going to move to our estate in Andalusia for a while." Marta's hands clutched the back of the chair she had almost seemed to be holding on to for a while.

"To Andalusia? What will happen to my work? I can't leave now. Not even for a week."

"I'm not talking about a week."

"I don't understand."

"I think it will be good for you, but also for your marriage, if you have a different environment for a while."

Marta turned pale. "For how long?"

"For as long as it takes for you to...," he seemed to search for the right words for a moment, something that rarely happened, "...well...get better again. Until you're back to your old self." His smile seemed devoid of empathy.

"You can't do that. What will happen to my work here?" she repeated. Her voice trembled.

Of course, it was about more than work. Cosmetics and perfume had never been her dream, but she loved having a real job, making her own decisions. She loved the freedom as an entrepreneur and boss that most of the women around her had been denied. And despite the last few weeks, despite the separation, she loved seeing Fina from afar, despite all the pain it caused. She had sworn to herself, even though they were no longer a couple, that she would do everything in her power to give Fina a good, independent life and, if necessary, to protect her if it ever came to that. From a distance, if necessary. But by far away, she had never meant further than the distance from her office to the store or the house. She hoped to hear Fina's laughter again one day, even if it was no longer hers. What's more, deep inside her lay the hope that one day the situation would change and they might have a chance to be together after all. With what her father was asking of her at the moment, however, any chance would be lost, every spark of hope in vain. Nothing, nothing would remain for her except an eternity at Jaime's side. And he, who had once been her best friend, didn't deserve that either. She shook her head in despair and looked pleadingly at her father. But she was looking into the eyes of a determined patriarch and patron, not a loving father.

"I can and I will. Your brothers will take over the management of your domain in your absence. And given the situation, I will probably have to get more involved again." He sighed and was silent for a moment. "Don't worry about it. When you're feeling better and I feel that I can rely on you again, all doors will be open to you here. You are my daughter. You are a de la Reina. I want you to take your time and remember that. And when you are ready again, I look forward to your return, mi hija." With these words, he had left the office, neither expecting nor tolerating any contradiction.

Marta's knuckles turned white, but she couldn't move. She stood alone in the office until her whole body slowly began to tremble. Her breathing quickened at first, but then became calmer and calmer, while her nostrils flared and she closed her eyes. Numerous scenes rewound in her head like a movie. Fina who laughed. Fina who cried. Fina who tenderly wiped the tears from her cheek. Fina looking at her, speechless and surprised after the first kiss, as if she could never have imagined that Marta would ever find the courage to do it. And even Marta hadn't been able to imagine having this courage for a long time. The fear of losing control was too great. And in the end she had lost it, unable to stop herself. And everything had been fine, at least for a short while. The cold that always surrounded her a little and sometimes made her shiver herself had ceased to exist in Fina's embrace. Fina may not have succeeded in bringing down her walls completely, but she had found a ladder that she used to overcome them again and again and get through to her. And for the very first time in her life, Marta de la Reina no longer felt lonely. She still felt a faint echo of this feeling when she watched Fina from afar. And it was better than nothing. It was a window into her prison, a distant humming melody of happiness and freedom that at least allowed her to escape in her thoughts and dreams.

What use is love in thought? She had read this question in one of her books and never had an answer. But now, in the last few weeks, she knew the answer. It keeps you alive. It made sure she kept going and made it through the night, time after time, walking past the gun cabinet in the family office with a glass of cognac in her hand and two glasses already in her stomach. It was as simple as that. Even pain was better than feeling nothing at all. She would have none of that if she bowed to her father's wishes. Not only was he closing the cage door, as he had always done, he also wanted to take away any view through the window of her prison. Dying would be better than living like this. Because basically, it wouldn't be a life. But didn't she deserve one? Hadn't she fulfilled all her duties up to this point flawlessly and without grumbling? A sentence from "Madame Bovary" came to her mind: "It is our duty to feel the great, to appreciate the beautiful and not to accept the conventions of society with the shame they impose on us."

Madame Bovary died in the end because of her high expectations of life and love. But Marta didn't really have high expectations. She didn't hope for eternal fireworks full of passion. She hoped for something that others simply called home.

She flinched when her younger brother Andres knocked gently on the door frame. "Marta? Is everything all right?"

For a moment, Marta just stared at him. Then she said "No" in a firm voice and fled from the office. She almost ran, but then forced herself to take a firm, measured step. Satisfied, Don Damian looked after her from the second office.


Marta almost seemed to gasp as she walked through the doors of the store. Carmen was tidying up the shelves not far from the door and raised her head in shock.

"Doña Marta!" she exclaimed in surprise. She could have sworn she saw little clouds of steam surrounding Marta's entire appearance. Something was not right. Something was absolutely wrong. And whoever was responsible, they would have to face this storm and Carmen didn't envy them for a minute. She just hoped it wasn't her who had turned Marta into such a fury by making a mistake. But she couldn't imagine that. Marta had hardly been in the store for two weeks. She had retreated to her office and quietly left Carmen in charge. It was fine with Carmen, even if it hadn't come with a title or more money yet. But the agreement ensured that Fina could halfway go about her work again until another solution could be found. And Carmen had done a good job, as Marta repeatedly emphasized when they discussed the day in the office in the evenings. It was also part of the tacit agreement that Carmen only reported that everyone had turned up for work on time as usual, including Fina.

So it meant something when Doña Marta was suddenly back in the store. She must have realized that Fina was also there. And whatever had upset her, it was apparently more important than protecting Fina. This effort to give Fina space and protect her at the same time had given Carmen a lot of extra respect for Marta. Especially as sometimes, when she entered the office in the evening, she would see a Marta, only for a second, who was obviously anything but well, the circles under her eyes burnt a little deeper into her face with each passing day. But whenever she was about to say something, to make a small personal comment, Marta would tighten her shoulders and ask for a report in a steady, almost toneless voice.

Even now she stood in front of her with those same firm shoulders. She trembled slightly and her otherwise blue eyes shimmered darker and at the same time more combative. For the first time in a long time, Carmen felt a little afraid of her boss. Sure, Doña Marta was a fair, often even understanding patroness, but this Marta here in front of her exuded a fury and determination she had never seen before. This woman was taking no prisoners today, that much was clear.

Carmen swallowed, but then got over herself and addressed the woman, who was still trembling slightly in the archway: "Doña Marta, can I do something for you? Do you need anything?"

Marta's eyes stared at her wordlessly.

"Doña Marta? Is everything all right? If something is wrong, then please..."

"Is she here?"

Carmen didn't have to ask who Marta meant. She cast a furtive glance in the direction of the till, which Marta didn't miss.

What had Fina done? Carmen couldn't think of anything. A secret meeting was practically out of the question, Fina had been at work all day for days, was picked up by her father for dinner in the evening and returned to the dormitory later. Always depressed and downhearted. It was impossible for the couple to meet, let alone argue. Moreover, Dona Marta had given her word to stay away as much as possible. And there was no sign that she would break it - except for this moment.

"I'm here," Fina's voice sounded tired as she stepped forward behind the till and slowly came into Marta's field of vision.

Marta still stood motionless in the doorway for a moment. But now she was no longer looking at Carmen, but at Fina, who returned her gaze firmly despite everything. She had always done that. She didn't play small, not even in front of an angry Marta. And it had sometimes driven Marta crazy and at the same time impressed her that she had always been prepared to stand up to her when she thought she had to. Fina, her Fina, was not afraid. Of no one.

Carmen cleared her throat. She had no idea what was going on, but the fact that her hair was standing up on the back of her neck was not a good sign, that much she knew. And no matter what happened to her, there was no way she was going to let her best friend suffer again. She was just about to speak to Doña Marta again and perhaps even bring her out of her torpor with a light touch when Marta suddenly turned around. The doors squeaked shut. Marta paused for a moment after turning the key in the door. Then she turned around again and searched for Finas gaze. Carmen looked back and forth between the two women. For a moment, she thought she was in the middle of a duel, almost like in a classic western. But this wasn't a duel. It was a wordless conversation. Doña Marta asked a question. She didn't say it, not a word escaped her lips. But she asked a question. And apparently she got an answer.

Seconds had passed when Marta suddenly started moving. It almost seemed like slow motion to Carmen. And she wished she could just vanish into thin air. But that wasn't necessary, because from the moment Marta started moving, she had become air, Carmen felt that immediately.

Marta's hands lifted as she walked. Her grip on Fina's cheeks and head was both gentle and firm as she looked into Fina's eyes for a brief moment. She didn't seem the least bit surprised. Marta's voice was a rumble that seemed to come from deep within her body, perhaps even her whole soul, when she finally said: "Tú eres mía."

It was a wish. A request and a command. A statement of the irrefutable facts. And at the same time an admission. And a declaration of war.

And when Marta kissed her this time, when their lips met, she took possession of Fina as she had never done before. And it wasn't just her lips. Her tongue demanded access and got it. "Eres mía," she whispered again and again, while their lips sought and found each other again and again. And then finally, after what felt like an eternity, Marta heard the confirmation: "Soy tuya, mi amor, soy tuya."